


Rich Evans' wacky dream

by Boofzer (orphan_account)



Category: redlettermedia
Genre: Abstract, Oneshot, Symbolism, Waste of Time, david lynch would be jealous, dream - Freeform, filmschool, how to not make a movie, jay used to be an ugly shark that's it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-18
Updated: 2019-05-18
Packaged: 2020-03-07 09:44:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18870685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Boofzer
Summary: Rich and Mike are a funny-movie-making duo in filmschool.





	Rich Evans' wacky dream

**Author's Note:**

> After having watched how to not make a movie I thought that making stupid movies in your twenties sounds nice so I wanted to write something about it. These are just anecdotes pasted together with no real meaning or significance, I did not mean to intrude in their early lives.

"richrichrich..."

 

"what is it, Mike"

 

"let's film something tomorrow. I think I know what I wanna do."

 

Rich stared at him grumpily. Mike knew he couldn't say no.

 

"See ya at my house, at uhh... whenever you get outta school."

 

"I have a test like, on monday."

 

"bbbyyeeee"

 

Rich scoffed. Arguing was fruitless. He guessed, today he'd have to attempt to study during breaks again. Filming sessions usually stretched out until late at night.

 

"I'm not putting on that monkey suit again!", Rich yelled after him.

 

Uneventful, classes took their course. Camera angle here, story twist there, the way to properly set up a background and all that. He felt like he wasn’t really learning how to make movies but rather how to listen to an old crusty teacher talk about whatever for hours. He couldn’t possibly memorize all of it without getting the chance to try it out for real.

 

Even though Mike could be annoying with his requests to film stuff after school, at least there he felt like he was doing something. And it was not like spending time with him was a pain in the ass, Mike knew how to make him laugh, and in turn Rich knew how to make him laugh.

 

Others spent their youth days probably doing anything else but silly movies. But he didn't mind, he knew he could look back fondly upon the time he spent with Mike.

 

“Mike ! Am here !”

 

He heard shuffling behind the door. The door unlocked, Mike invited him to come in.

 

“Right, so I thought you could sit here, and do some improv. I brought a couple props I got from a yard sale.”

 

A squeaky chicken, an unstable chair that looked like it would break in half any second, a rubber sword, and an ugly grandma wig stood before him.

 

“Seriously? with this?”

 

“we can always go look for the old stuff in the back. Depends on what we wanna do.”

 

Rich tried to think of something. A crazy farmer sitting on a chair, feeding his chickens ? So the wacky Rich Evans could break the chair upon sitting on it and accidentally stab himself with the sword on the ground? Not long enough. A violent sword-wielding chicken-murderer? not quite funny. 

 

Rich walked over to the chicken, and did a test squeeze. The sound was ridiculous. The image of throwing the chicken into the oven and them filming it squeaking rapidly as if it was hyperventilating crossed his mind. He chuckled.

 

“Anything yet?” 

 

“I’m doing all the thinking. You might give me prompts sometimes and a couple props, but you’re the director. You tell me what you want me to do.”

 

Mike thought for a while. 

 

“Hmm….alright. I’ll set up the camera.”

 

Rich sat down on the sofa, waiting patiently.

 

“You need help with that?”

 

“Nah, am fine.”

 

Once the camera was set up, Rich looked at Mike expectantly.

 

“Okay, uh, come in, walking like you’re really tired-”

 

“oh that’ll be easy.”

 

“-and lie down and pretend to sleep.”

 

Rich tilted his head questioningly.

 

“That’s all I got. We’ll think of something later.”

 

As soon as he was sure Mike was recording, Rich walked to the couch, sighed and threw himself onto it. He squirmed a little, got comfortable and closed his eyes. Then he let his breath become slower and shallower.

 

To facilitate editing, he knew he had to hold the position for longer than what he thought was the appropriate length for the scene. If a dream sequence would follow up for example, in order for the transition to be smooth it had to be so.

 

“Rich.”

 

Rich had fallen asleep.

 

“RICH!”

 

“w..whaaaat ? I’m in a dream?”

 

Rich swum along the blue linen cloth sea.

 

“What’s Mike gonna put on that background, if it moves around so much it’ll be difficult to key out- OH MY GOOODDD !”

 

In came an ugly shark, with an eyepatch. Rich laughed upon seeing it.

 

“Mike, mike where the hell did you get this…”

 

The shark swum around, not really paying attention to Rich. Rich didn’t know where such a scene would even go, if there was no interaction with the newly introduced character. Rich put it upon himself to get something going.

 

“Uh, nice … sea you got here, miss.”

 

The shark turned around to look at him and stood still, or as still as it could with the waves its body fought against. Rich tried again.

 

“So, you swim here often?”

 

He instantly regretted that line. It was so generic, nothing could be done with it. He had to think of something else quick to make up for it.

 

“Listen Madam, if you’re gonna stand there like an asshole at least do it with... style?”

 

Nothing happened. The shark turned around, slapping Rich with its tail.

 

“oow my leeeegss”

 

“bang.”

 

“what?”

 

The shark had said something. Perplexed, Rich looked at dream-Mike holding the camera, who he barely could see because of the lighting. But he knew he was there.

 

“Mike, are you seeing this?”

 

“Keep going, it’s good.”

 

“B-”

 

“If you don’t you won’t get your treat.”

 

“My, my what-?”

 

“RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIICHHHHH…!”

 

The shark rushed at him, its voice blending in with-

 

“RICH! Oh, you’re awake.”

 

“Hm?”

 

“I would’ve let you sleep but... we need to decide what of our stuff we’ll send to Bauman today.” 

 

“Jay you said? Uuh… I doubt he’d like....any of our stuff. The tapes he sent us were...something, but something else to what we do. His features actually make somewhat sense.”

 

“It’s fine, we have...some good stuff too.”

 

“But what though? It’s stuff that’s funny to us, but we don’t really know about the rest.”

 

“We’ve shown some of our stuff to people, it’s not like we haven’t had success…”

 

Rich thought about Jay’s feature films and their shorts. He knew Jay’s were good, and he liked their own ones, but he couldn’t quite see something in common with them yet. He wasn’t sure why Mike was so adamant about bonding with this particular filmmaker. It was true, that unlike other people in the forum he had something to offer that was interesting, but they could also just continue on as they were, no need for expanding. 

 

But, Rich and Mike both knew, that they wished to continue filming as long as they could, because they weren’t any good at anything else. Their soon-to-be Film School degree was, as the title already told, for filming movies, adverts, anything of the sort.

 

Yet Rich and Mike didn’t see themselves making anything much grander, or marketable than what they did at home. They also somehow didn’t wish to. They were content, having found their niche in weird shorts involving absolute destruction, bizarre editing and improvisation.

 

Eventually they’d have to get a job. Eventually they’d have to do this professionally. Yet it seemed so far away, beyond their capabilities.

 

What they saw in Bauman was a valuable contact. A connection to actors, connection to other filmmakers, a chance to learn from someone else.

 

“Send in...send in the Plinkett one. The one that got voted best of the class.”

 

“It didn’t. I joked.”

 

“Well, send it in anyway, I can’t think of much else.”

 

“Good. I’ll mail it tomorrow.”

 

“Oh this’ll go well…”

 

Rich snickered.


End file.
